


The Painting

by lanalucy



Series: The Healing Arts [4]
Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Cross-Posted on LiveJournal, Cunnilingus, F/F, Kissing, Light Angst, Masturbation, Painting, Rough Sex, Sequel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-21
Updated: 2014-01-21
Packaged: 2018-01-09 12:32:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1146020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lanalucy/pseuds/lanalucy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kara wanted to paint Laura.</p><p>Thanks to newnumbertwo for the beta and squee!</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Painting

Laura was reclined on a ratty couch in Kara’s studio. Kara had wanted to paint her, so she’d rearranged her schedule so that she could spend the entire day with Kara. She was fascinated by the way Kara was looking at her, or rather looking through her. She wondered what Kara was seeing as she glanced back and forth so rapidly.

She’d started with a sketch - pencil or charcoal, Laura wasn’t sure. Then she’d put that on the other easel, put up a blank prepped canvas on the main easel, and started painting.

Watching Kara paint was like an glimpse into her soul. Unhindered by Kara’s usual barriers, Laura could watch her lover just be, and it was unexpectedly arousing. Kara’s face was expressive when she wasn’t hiding behind her usual masks and Laura could see Kara’s eyes change when she’d look at the sketch, then at Laura, then back to the canvas, not even noticing that she was suddenly flushed, or that her nipples had peaked under her t-shirt.

So Laura laid there, trying to ignore the increasing urge to relieve the pressure in her barely covered panties. She was doing remarkably well, in her considered opinion, until Kara stuck the paintbrush in her mouth while she was mixing colors onto her palette. Her tongue curled around the wooden handle and Laura’s need became unbearable. Her hand slipped.

Kara didn’t notice at first - she was still mixing colors, not really looking at either Laura or her canvases. She looked up when Laura breathed in sharply, then exhaled a tiny, almost inaudible, whimper.

Laura’s eyes were fixed on Kara’s face. Kara’s eyes were fixed on Laura’s fingers. She didn’t come any closer, though, just watched, subconsciously pressing her arms into her breasts. She’d taken the brush out of her mouth though, and had run her tongue over her teeth.

Laura kept going, wondering when Kara would break, but also relishing that Kara was watching without putting her guard back up. She was completely open; everything she was feeling shone in her hazel eyes.

Laura slowly pushed up under the oversized button-down men’s shirt, her hand squeezing and pressing, rolling and pinching. She felt something odd, made a mental note to check it in the shower later, then pushed it out of her mind; she was performing for her lover.

She glided her thumb through slick folds, then began rubbing tight circles on her clit. She pushed two fingers in, hand-frakking lazily, then with greater intent, Her eyelids fluttered as she teased herself closer to climax, finally losing the battle as she choked out, “Kara! Oh gods, Kara.!”

\---

Kara had been fighting horniness for over an hour; Laura in that men’s shirt half-way unbuttoned, the supposedly utilitarian white cotton panties peeking out from under the tail, had undermined her determination to paint Laura, not ravish her. She gave up the struggle when she caught Laura’s hand slipping down between her legs. She’d absently stuck the paintbrush in her mouth while she was mixing colors, and her tongue curled around it in reflex - she wanted to be frakking Laura. At the same time, Laura didn’t do this very often - give in to her own need. Kara masturbated a lot, but watching Laura was always a special treat.

Then Laura’s eyes slowly closed, opened, closed again, and the way she said Kara’s name as she orgasmed was too much.

She stalked over to the couch, pulled Laura’s ass to the edge, practically ripped the panties from her and licked roughly. Laura jerked under her hand, cried out. Too much. Kara pushed Laura’s hand away from her pussy and buried her face in her. She greedily consumed Laura, loving the taste of _Laura_ overlaying the soap she’d used in the shower that morning, and the faint odor of laundry soap from her underwear.

She sucked in Laura’s clit, harder and rougher than she usually was, and relished the faint whimper signalling the fine line between pain and pleasure that Laura was riding. She kept at her, adding fingers, pushing in, searching for the spot she knew would send Laura rushing headlong into oblivion.

Laura’s wordless scream was music to Kara’s ears; she loved the few times Laura gave herself over entirely, the times she was able to guide Laura into the abyss.

She didn’t wait for Laura to come down, just stretched up, pulling Laura’s mouth to hers. “Gods, I love you, Laura.”

Laura’s hand tangled in Kara’s hair, her legs surrounded Kara like she’d never let go, and she hummed out, “Show me again, baby.”

Kara didn’t finish the painting that day, didn’t finish it for weeks, in fact. It wasn’t long after that when Laura withdrew from her, in both subtle and obvious ways, and Kara was never quite convinced that her forceful lovemaking that day hadn’t been the catalyst for the change.


End file.
